Personal Demons
by Annamonk
Summary: Another Spuffy short. Spike becomes Buffy's protector when everything goes wrong in her world. The story deserves it's rating. This is just my version of passing the time until my poll closes.
1. Chapter 1

Parker Abrams looked at the blonde girl sitting next to him. She was pretty enough in that certain way so many of the California girls were, all tan and toned and smiling like life was actually commercial good. He would have let this one go, but the job was the job.

He dumped the powder in her drink while she was distracted. He got her up and moving as they sipped their drinks. He needed her away from the crowd. Her eyes began to droop. The drug always hit them hard. She'd be out for hours. Hell, she'd wake up in his bed tomorrow and assume they'd spent the night together.

Buffy stumbled and he grabbed her arm. She was such a tiny little thing that her weight didn't bother him at all. They just needed to get to a viable extraction point.

"I should get back to my dorm." Buffy smiled shyly.

"I guess it is too soon to ask you to spend the night with me." He stroked her cheek. He could see the pick up team coming up behind her. He kissed her and rubbed her neck. This one was cute.

Buffy shuddered and pushed back from him.

"No." She wrenched herself free of his hand and took three awkward steps away from him. "Too warm."

She flipped around and collapsed into Finn's arms.

"Did she take the full dose, Parker?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good work, we'll have her in the release zone at five thirty unless she warrants further testing."

"I know the drill."

"Yes, I suppose you do." The blonde man's sneer bothered him.

"Yes, sir." Parker snarled. Drugging young girls and turning them into test subjects wasn't what he had joined the Air Force to do. Most days, he loathed his own reflection.

Finn nodded and carried the subject off. Parker closed his eyes. Tomorrow he would crush the girl, just like all the others. He hated himself. This wasn't research. Buffy had been so sweet. He opened his eyes and watched as Finn carried her in to the facility through one of the concealed doors. A bottle of something strong would get him through the night. He headed back toward his room.

* * *

Willow knew she had to go to Giles. She stared at the stuffed pig resting against Buffy's pillows and bit her lip. There was no more room for denial.

Buffy was missing. She wasn't sleeping elsewhere, not without calling, and she hadn't been to class. Slaying kept her busy, but she rarely missed class.

No, someone had taken the slayer. She bit her lip and grabbed her purse. Giles needed to be told. He would know what to do.

* * *

Buffy became aware of the world around her slowly. This was her third room. She smelled the antiseptic scent of a hospital and tried to remember what had happened. They had undressed her in the first one. Then they'd sprayed her with a hose. The water had been far too cold and the humans wielding the hose had refused to talk to her. Hell, they didn't really see her. When she had fought the idiot with the taser had dropped her hard.

Being dragged into the next room by a man while she was so exposed had stripped her of any dignity.

Her body wouldn't respond. She felt her legs being moved and some sort of support being placed behind her knees. When her legs swung wide, she managed to open her eyes.

"The cold slide of the speculum hurt her. It was cold and huge. She couldn't move at all. She couldn't speak. Fingers touched her, not gently.

"Is she ready?" That voice sounded like her psych professor.

"Another round of injections should do it." It was a man's voice. "She'll be ready tomorrow morning."

"She's aware." Professor Walsh came into her line of sight.

"The paralytic will hold her steady for days. It's best really." The man moved his hand inside her and she wanted to scream. "Have you picked a demon subject?"

"We have five options in the cells, but we might haul in something better tonight." Walsh stroked her hair. "She'll be our Eve."

"Would you pass me the dose?"

Walsh smiled and lifted the stainless steel syringe where she could see it. It was huge. What the hell were they shooting into her? She shuddered as a latex covered hand took hold of it. She counted.

One. The glide of his fingers on her sensitive flesh.

Two. The clicking of the speculum as he pushed it wider.

Three. The pinch of the needle deep inside her.

She tried to pull her legs free, but nothing happened. She tried to move, but her body wouldn't respond. Tears ran from her eyes in hot streaks to her hair. She managed to take a deep breath.

The needle slid from her and she wanted to pull her legs together. The sudden heat between her legs was awful. What the hell was the drug doing?

"Do you think this series of injections will be enough?" Walsh pressed a needle into her arm.

"I have enough of the serum to do three more of the cervical doses and five of the drug cocktail, but I doubt we need to use them." The man rested his hand on her thigh like she was a table.

"Would it better our chances if we used them?"

"There is no way to know. This has never been attempted."

"Then give her as much as you can before the implantation." Walsh smiled. "We can always synthesize more."

Buffy felt the fingers on one hand flex. The drugs seemed to be wearing off. She forced her body to remain still. She needed them to believe she was still caught while her body came back to her.

Time was measured in the torture of shots. No one spoke to her. She was just a thing. She shifted an arm as the bastard finally pulled the speculum from her body. She was on fire. Whatever they had given her was making her burn inside. She could feel her powers surging. Survival. It was everything. The slayer had to survive.

She wanted to hunt. She wanted to take her prey down and revel in her victory. The slayer surged to the fore. The small whimpers of the girl were lost in the quest for survival.

"The subject is responding intensely to experimental cocktail three. I doubt we will need restraints." He was speaking into a recorder with his back to her. He was weak. He had hurt the girl. This was unacceptable. She sat up in a fluid motion and snarled as he turned toward her. She grabbed the speculum and hit him with it. He dropped to the ground like a stone. She yanked his white jacket off of his body and shrugged into it. She nudged him with her toe.

Her body burned. She snarled. The thing on the floor was not prey, but she wanted to kill it. This whimpering creature had hurt her. It's like could not be trusted.


	2. Chapter 2

Spike looked at the dappled shadows of the leaves on the ground. The world was far more alive and brilliant than he remembered. Well, it wasn't apples to oranges, coal soaked London to Sunnybloodydale. Still, it would take some adaptation. He stepped out into the sun and smiled. The warm burn of the sun's rays on his skin was a seduction of its own. He watched a couple of young women strolling across campus. The sun on their skin was no protection. Oh, this was sweet.

Nothing could kill him now.

He took a deep breath of the warm California air. He could go anywhere and do anything. There were no limits. He was going to kill this slayer and the next one and the one after that. He was going to kill slayers until his dark princess came crawling to him and begged for his forgiveness.

He would live how he wanted. No one and no thing would dictate to him. His ties to this world made no difference. Mortal enemies were no longer a threat and immortal bonds were loosed. He was beyond them. Invincible.

He rolled his shoulders and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on his skin. He was walking in the light of day. It was sheer bliss.

A ruckus caught his attention. He saw the slayer shy away from some human bloke. Oh, it was too precious. She could break the boy in half, but she acted like a skittish filly. Why would she step away lie that?

When the boy touched her arm she flinched and tossed him for distance. The fact that she was beating on a human didn't register at first. She was was bloody amazing. He loved watching her in action. Slayers all had flare, but she burned brighter than any he'd ever seen. He leaned against the lamp post in the blazing sun and took in the beauty of the moment, waiting for her to see him and feel death blow in her ear.

He waited, but her eyes kept darting behind her. She was on the run. What could have her so spooked? He could see her chest heaving as her tanned legs stretched as far as their short length could carry her. Her feet were bare. Something was hunting the slayer, his slayer.

She paused when she saw him. The indecision on her face shocked him. He recognized the look and the behavior. She was trying to decide if he was trustworthy. How barmy was the girl? Dru had similar spells when certain memories of her turning were bothering her, but the slayer should never look so haunted. It wasn't as if Angelus had really gone after her.

Rage bloomed in him as another human moved toward her. The bastard was pointing some sort of gun at the slayer. The girl backed away from this new threat. He could see her body shaking and smell her blood on the air. It was unacceptable. She was his to kill. No two bit human would take her down.

He was beside the fool in a flash of vampiric speed. The blighter didn't even have the sense to protect his flank. He sank his fangs into the bastard's neck and yanked them free, spitting out the foul tasting blood.

"What are you on? Nasty stuff." He tossed the man away and saw the slayer move toward him, her decision made.

Her eyes weren't properly focused. The pupils dominated her emerald gaze. She paused and sniffed the air as she neared him. He felt the absurd urge to hold out his hand toward her. The lab coat she had wrapped around her body was ripped and gaped in revealing places. He looked her over. She had bruises and cuts all over her body, but there was no scent of semen.

They hadn't hurt his slayer like his princess had been hurt, but she had been hurt. The bruises from restraints were clear at her wrists, ankles, and knees. Her exhaustion was clear. It was unacceptable.

The best slayer he had ever known deserved to go down fighting, not running from those she was designed to protect.

She screamed as another one of the masked humans shot her with one of those stupid guns. It emitted some kind of light. He watched as she fell at his feet, the hot flare of ozone burning in the air around her. He snarled at the man approaching them. There were too many to take and keep her safe. He glanced down at the spill of golden hair on the bright green grass. His slayer wasn't going down at some human's whim. He wouldn't abandon her to this fate.

He plucked her up and sprinted away from the rest of the boys in drab green. Stupid humans, shooting at their salvation. He had no idea where to take her. She needed to be safe, but his options were limited. She needed someplace with indoor plumbing. A place to shower. He turned toward Crawford Street with a snarl.

He slowed down as he neared their destination. The soldier boys hadn't kept up. He could stow the slayer here and let her watcher know where to find her. She would be fine.

The slayer started to tremble against him. He gathered her close. Her body was so warm pressed against his chest and smelled so good. He shook his head to clear it. There was no time for a snack. He looked around the mansion.

Angelus had come back here with his stupid soul intact. How could the poncey soul stand it? The guilt should have swallowed him whole.

The bastard had fucked Dru in front of him several times a day. Hell, there had been times when they'd gone at it in the bed next to him, making his emotional pain as sharp as his physical. The times when Angelus had finished with her and buggered him didn't bear thinking about.

He needed to get out of here. The memories were too sharp.

The slayer shifted in his arms, and pressed one hand against his chest. Her tiny fingers splayed against his skin, burning like a brand. He looked down into her eyes. The lights were on, but no one had bloody returned home. She was sniffing him. What in the endless dimensions of hell was this about?

He shoved the door to the Poof's bedroom open. She snarled and clung to him. Well, that was interesting. Little Miss Summers didn't want to be in his sire's bedroom.

She relaxed against him again as he headed back toward the garden. A bit of sun might do her good. The scent of her was intoxicating, all that miraculous blood pounding through her body. He swallowed. She had come to him. This killer of his kind had picked him. Why would the bint run from those soldier types and cling to him instead of heading for her annoying little friends?

He smelled the blood seeping from the gash on her arm. She needed to be cleaned up. Humans could catch their deaths from untended wounds, slayer or no.

He stared out into the overgrown garden. It pricked at him as well. Drusilla had danced with Angelus in the moonlight there while he sat in his chair, forgotten. He had been nothing more than a discarded toy.

Coming here had been a bad idea. Everywhere he turned a memory burst to life, stinging him once more. He should just dump the girl in one of the rooms and leave. He'd already done more than she deserved.

The slayer nuzzled his chest and purred. Her fingers were sliding along his skin. He shivered. Her touch was electric. His body couldn't help but respond.

He set her on her feet. What in bleeding hell was wrong with the gel now? He took a deep breath and froze. There wasn't any fear coming from her, but what he did smell was terrifying.

She growled as he stepped back, breaking contact.

Whatever was driving the slayer stared at him through her eyes. The assessing gaze was confident. No, there was no fear in her. The scent on the air was appealing in a different way. He took another deep breath and inhaled the warm welcome of desire.


	3. Chapter 3

The slayer had found what she wanted. She watched as the lithe body of the male shifted nervously. He was perfect. She stalked toward him. He would not refuse her. She yanked the rags from her body, enjoying the beautiful one's reaction.

His eyes skimmed her offering and he licked his lips. The desire was strong. There was strength in him. He was a true warrior. This one was worthy.

He raised his hands, palms up, and backed away.

This was unacceptable. She stalked toward him. She had made her choice. It was for him to comply.

"Slayer, don't know what's got hold of you, but, much as I appreciate the view, you need to cover up and get your wits about you." He swallowed and his eyes tracked down her body again. "I'm a damned fool."

"You want me." She smiled. These were the right words.

"Yeah, not blind am I?" He waved his hand at her. "But I fancy my unlife a bit more. Besides, I don't force women. Whatever's riding you might want me, but you are not the slayer I love to hate."

"I am the slayer." She touched her hip with her fingers. "My form is pleasing to you, so why not give us both the pleasure of yours?"

"You're not Buffy." He sighed. "I hope the bint is still in there somewhere, but you're not her. I don't go in for rape. Without Buffy, that's what it would be."

"I am the slayer and Buffy." She stroked her side.

"No offense, but you don't sound like her." He stepped closer to her and cupped her cheek. "You feel like her, smell like her, prolly even taste like her, but some of her is missing."

"I am here." She wrapped her fist in his shirt and pulled him close to her body. He needed to feel her heat. "I want you."

"What's my name then?" He smirked. He was so confident. It was amusing.

"Your name is William." She rose on to her toes and touched her nose to his. "Also, Spike."

She smiled as his eyes widened. Fools always assumedthat knowledge belonged only to the vessel. She was the vessel and the power as was the girl, one whole. He was hers, and it was time he learned it. She closed the minuscule distance between them and covered his mouth with her own. He jerked back from her, ripping his shirt. She closed the distance between them in one stride.

"I want you, now." She pressed the flat of her palm against his bared abdomen. The skin was smooth and cool under her hand. She pressed her fingers down, dipping them behind the waistband of his pants.

"Christ." He clenched her shoulders, holding her away from his delicious body. She tossed her hair back and arched her chest toward him. The catch in his unneeded breath was her reward.

"You want me. I want you. Why not take our pleasure?" She ran her fingers along his taut abdomen.

"Why bloody not? Got to be a fool to refuse you." He swallowed. "Worse comes to worst, I've got the gem."

"You won't need it." She rolled her hips provocatively. His fingers dug into the flesh of her back, still restraining her.

"Gonna do this right, though." He locked his cerulean stare with hers. "We do this my way. Clear?"

"I do understand your terms." She nodded.

"Not really terms. More promises. Gonna make you scream my name for hours, Pet."

She smiled as he gathered her close. His cool fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her head back. He growled when he noticed the scar riding her skin.

"You're gonna long for me after this. Won't even remember his bloody name." He pressed his lips against the scar in a tender kiss. She shivered and held him to her. When this was over he would be hers. She hummed deep in her throat, encouraging him.

The girl had receded into the fog of the drugs, and she had this rare moment of control. Fate had joined them, made them strong. This one, this Buffy, was good. Worthy. She deserved a true protector, one to stand at her side or guard her back, an equal.

The beautiful one was fierce. He would match the girl, make her stronger, help her hold on to life. He would show her joy. The slayer pulled at the waistband of his pants. He could have his hours later. She needed him now.

He growled against her neck. She laughed at the threat. The sound echoed through the large room. Oh, he was glorious. Brave and brash, he was exactly what this girl needed.

"I like these jeans, Woman. Leave them be." He pushed her hands away from his pants and pulled her wrists behind her back,pressing her chest into his. "You want me, Slayer?"

She nodded.

"Then we do this my way." His blue eyes flared amber, and he forced her body even closer to his with a small move of her wrists.

"Your way is taking too long." She rubbed against him, pressing her breasts against his bared flesh.

"Fine then." He tossed her over his shoulder. "I'll fuck you in the poof's bed."

He moved quickly, kicked open the double doors, and tossed her onto a bare mattress. This room bothered the girl, but time was limited. She propped her torso up on her elbows, looked down the length of her body, and fastened her gaze on him.

He stood transfixed at the foot of the bed. His duster was discarded on the floor, and he was dragging in great gulps of air.

"Tell me this is real." His hands rested on the waistband of his jeans. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you."

He unbuttoned the top button of his pants.

"Need a bit more than that." His voice sent a shiver down her spine.

"Make me scream, Spike." She tossed her hair back, showing him the scarred side of her neck.

"That's right. Gonna make you scream for me." He shoved the jeans down and kicked free of them and his boots. He was perfect. She rubbed the palms of her hands on the mattress.

He slid one hand up her smooth leg, pushing it to the side and opening her up to his gaze.

"Have there been any since the poof?"

The slayer slowly shook her head.

"Good." He put a knee on the bed and slid his body onto hers. She arched up to him. "This'll be a tight fit."

He rammed his cock into her, one stroke. She quivered as the flash of pain faded into pleasure.

"Wanna get fucked by a demon, Slayer, you better be prepared for it." He pulled out and thrust in with more force.

The slayer gasped against his shoulder. He was holding back even as he punished her with this roughness. She needed the demon. His humanity was strong. She admired him more for it, but humanity wouldn't do.

"Harder." She dug her nails into his back. Her body would heal.

He moved the bed as he pounded into her, but it wasn't enough. His demon was still hiding from her. She bit her tongue hard, letting the blood well up in her mouth. She wrapped her legs around his hips and grabbed his head.

His eyes were already golden. She smiled and pulled him down for the kiss that would drive him mad. Their lips met and she thrust her blood drenched tongue up into his mouth. The scrape of his shifting bones heralded the demon's full arrival.

She whimpered as the demon pushed her shoulders down and cleaned her mouth of every drop of blood. He tossed his head back and roared as he thrust deep into her. She shuddered and rose to meet him, snarling as she tossed her head back.

Their eyes met, and he stilled. It was time. She rolled them on the bed and rose over him, letting his golden gaze take in her undulating body.

"Do you want me, Demon?" She grabbed her own breasts and rolled the nipples between her thumb and forefinger, enticing him.

He growled and shoved his hips up, driving into her.

"Tell me." She pressed one hand to his chest, holding him down. "Tell me."

"I want you, Slayer." He growled.

It was enough. She leaned forward and licked a drip of her own blood from the side of his mouth. He snarled and turned his head toward her, but she pulled back. The white scar of his sire's mark was bared to her. She touched it, running her finger along it again and again.

His growl turned to a groan as she toyed with the mark. The sire's claim was strong, but it no longer mattered. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering all the bits of her will, and bit deep into him. She felt the cool flesh part and tasted his cooled blood. The sire's mark flared against her, but she sucked his blood into her. Each pull removed the other female's hold. No other would have claim over him now. She yanked her teeth from his skin and grabbed his face, turning it to her.

"Mine." She panted. "You are mine."

His golden eyes took in the blood that dripped from her mouth. She waited for him to challenge her claim, but his eyes flickered with pricks of blue. He raised a hand to her face and traced her bloody lips.

"Yes."

She rolled them again and offered her own scar to him. He thrust deep into her. She whimpered and arched her throat up.

"Do you want me?" He stroked the mark once.

"I want you." She smiled.

He pressed his lips against the mark gently, kissing it.

"Please." She shoved her hips up taking him deeper into her.

"Patience, Slayer." He stroked her hair. "I want to savor this."

His fangs grazed the mark, sending her pulse into overdrive. She shuddered and clung to his shoulders. It had to come soon. Demons weren't usually tender.

His fangs slid in deep, smoothly cutting through her skin. She shivered against him as he sucked her life force slowly, drawing out the ecstasy of each heart beat. He pumped into her brutally. She welcomed the small jolts of pain. She was his. This was his right. He was her mate. Her fingers threaded through his hair and held him to her throat, encouraging him.

He slid his fangs from her, and she moaned in disappointment.

"Mine." He cupped her cheek and turned her to face him. "You are mine."

"Yes." She smiled as her demon tossed his head back and roared his victory. His body erupting in completion. She welcomed all of him to her. The girl stirred and sank into the bliss as the lines began to blur between them.


	4. Chapter 4

Buffy stroked Spike's back as he collapsed against her. Her hand trailed along his skin at the slayer's command. It was so, so wrong to enjoy this. She should be screaming and fighting, but that didn't feel right either. She shuddered as he moved aginst her body. His skin was like silk under her fingers.

He was purring. That was weird. Vampires purred? How was she just finding this out? The slayer stroked him again, and ran one foot down his leg. The rumbling in his chest was oddly soothing.

Buffy curled her fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Her body ached. The bare mattress was scratchy against her back. None of it really mattered. She could feel the slayer, still separate from her, struggling for control. Fighting herself was just so weird. It was strange to take control again, to own her body again. Things were so much simpler from the back seat. She had watched and experienced all of it, but the slayer had made all the decisions.

She closed her eyes and rested as her mate's rumbling purr comforted her. Her eyes popped open. Her mate. Spike, William the Bloody, Slayer of slayers, was her mate. Her heart started to race.

"So, you're driving again then, Love?" He rolled them over and smiled up at her as she blushed at the wet sound of his body sliding from hers.

"You knew I wasn't me?" She bit her lip. Part of her wanted to be angry, but the lassitude of the moment was more appealing.

"Was you, just not all of you." He stroked her neck with the pad of his thumb and her body tingled. "Wouldn't have worked if it hadn't been you."

"Oh." She lowered her head on to his chest. He wrapped her in his arms. "So, what are we gonna do?"

"Live with it. Not much else we can do, Pet." He stroked her back. "No way to undo it, no divorce, and any distance is gonna be a bitch to handle."

"What does that mean?"

"Means we'll be setting up house or doin' it in the streets. Your choice really." He shrugged the shoulder she didn't have pinned. "I'm not fussy."

"Not fussy? What are you talking about?" Buffy pushed up and stared at his smirking face.

"Mean I'll shag you anywhere, Pet. If we don't live together the bond will force us to copulate like rabbits on Spanish Fly. It's just the way of it. Don't have to worry about the sunlight anymore, so anytime, anywhere."

"You've got to be kidding me." She sat up and glared at him. "I am not going to fall all over you like that. I have something called self control."

"Not saying you don't, but if we aren't staying together the claim will have to be renewed. There's no fighting it. Self control means nothing to the claim." Spike pushed up and sat back against the headboard.

"I live in the dorm with Willow." She hated the strange pleading tone in her voice. "I'm eighteen."

"Age means nothing to the bond. Living with your little witch wouldn't bother me. I'm surprised by the choice though. Not exactly safe for either of you right now. Is it? What with those soldier boys hunting you?" He stroked her bare calf. "What was going on this morning, Love?"

Fear jolted through her as she considered what had happened. The soldier guys knew all about her. She could remember that much. They had said she was the first one strong enough. God, they would be after her. She could not go back there. Most of it was blurry, but there had been pain and needles. God, she hated needles.

"Come here, Pet." Spike opened his arms and she surged into his embrace. Trusting in him seemed natural. This was all too weird. Her stroked her back, comforting her. "I won't let the bastards get you, but I need you to tell me everything."

"I was on a date with this guy, but he was trying too hard. I just wanted to go back to my room. I remember him walking me home, but then everything goes blank." She shivered. "They took my clothes and sprayed me with a hose. The water was really cold and the pressure was so high it stung my skin. Then they did things, took my blood, tested me. They put me in a tiny room. They made the room really hot and cold in turns. I thought I was going to die. It was awful, but nothing like that last room. They gave me some kind of drug that held me still while they did stuff to me."

The low rumble of his growl was comforting. His arms tightened around her. She swallowed. How fucked was her world if Spike was the one keeping her safe?

"The slayer is always there, ya know? It's a part of me, but when things get bad that part kinda gets stronger. This is the first time it took complete control."

"Saved you." His voice was gravelly.

"Yeah, got me out of there. I think I might have really hurt some of them, but I had no choice. Right? I remember the panic. I needed a safe place to hide, but they were everywhere."

"How long had you been running when we crossed paths?"

"Time was wonky down there. I have no idea." Buffy bit her lip. "Does it matter?"

"Could figure out how much they want you if we knew, maybe." He hummed and stroked her shoulder.

"I was only above ground for a few minutes when I saw you."

"So, you came to me?" He smiled and shook his head. "I might have killed you for the fun of it."

"Yeah, but you would have just done it. You're fair about it." She stroked his chest. "They were getting me ready for some sort of implant. My psych professor was there and I knew some of the guys."

"We will take care of this." He rubbed a hand down her back. "Whatever they have planned, it can't be good."

"I was so scared. It hurt and I couldn't fight." She curled in closer to him. "I can't stand to be powerless. What if I hadn't gotten away?"

"You got out. That's what matters." He kissed her temple. "You survived."

Spike played with her hair. His fingers were so gentle as he dealt with all the tangles. She sighed. He was being sweet, and it was freaksome. The whole situation was out of control.

"I might have killed some of them, and they were human." She shivered. "The slayer side didn't care. It just wanted to get us out of there."

"Understandable. They were going to hurt you. You did the right thing. They weren't innocents." He made it sound so simple.

"Do you think I'll go crazy? That's what happened to Faith. She killed a human and took a quick ride to psychoville." She shuddered. "I don't want to be like that."

"You won't be. Too full of regret to be evil. You're still you more or less." He squeezed her gently. "Tell me the rest."

"I got out through some sort of air shaft, but they were on my trail. I'd duck one, incapacitate another, but I couldn't lose them." She felt the hot spill of tears on her cheeks. "Then I saw you."

"So, this other part of you decided it wanted me?" He smirked.

"You looked so beautiful in the sunlight and so strong." She bit her lip. It wasn't a good time to explain how safe she had felt when he took out that commando. "How were you out in the sun?"

"Found a little bauble." He shrugged. "Best thing with a slayer for a mate. Be at your back when you need me, yeah?"

She nodded, but the whole mating thing was more than she could handle.

"I'm gonna need you to tell me about this mating stuff. I know you'll keep me safe. I know you're mine, and I know I'm yours. I just know it, but I have no idea what it means." She blushed as he chuckled.

"No, Pet, I'm laughing at the situation not you. I've wanted someone to chose me all of my life. I thought Dru had when she turned me, but I was a convenience to her. Now, I get the mate, but again it's the convenience of it." He shook his head. "It's bitter, but I'll live."

She looked up at him and felt a twinge of guilt. She had done this to him.

"You didn't force me, Pet. Don't fret yourself." He kissed her forehead. "I wanted it. My demon may have made the actual choice, but I wanted it. Hell, I would have begged you for it if you had made me."

"So, we're married vampire style, right?" She touched his chin lightly, tracing her fingers along his smooth line of his jaw. "That's why you said divorce wasn't an option."

"Yes, Pet." He swallowed and turned his head, looking away from her.

"Mom's gonna be pissed, and Giles will have kittens, rabid ones." She splayed her hand over his stomach and pressed down against his defined muscles. "What the hell are we going to do?"

"We'll do our best. Adapt. It's what we do. It's why fighting you was always so much bloody fun. Gonna have to do something about those humans hunting you. Can't have that." He looked at her, and she saw the possessive gleam in his eyes. "We'll go see your watcher and let him weigh in."

"We can't go to Giles." She covered her breasts. "I don't have any clothes."

Spike laughed, a loud bark of joyous noise, and she smiled at him. The part of her that wanted to be angry was diminishing. Her slayer side was never wrong. She bit her lip. She had to trust her instincts.

Spike pulled her tight and kissed the tip of her nose.

"I'm not gonna let you go about starkers, Pet." He stroked her sides. "This is mine. No one else gets to see this delectable body of yours."

"How very Neandervamp of you." Buffy giggled as he rolled her under him and growled against her neck. She kissed his cheek. It felt like the right thing to do.

Spike froze.

"Are you okay?" She ducked her head down beneath his to stare into his eyes. They were closed tightly, and he was panting. "Spike, are you okay?"


	5. Chapter 5

Spike could feel her shifting under his body, could sense her concern, but there was nothing he could do. Her tiny bit of affection had sent him reeling. He didn't want the deceit of it. He did not need another female to tell him pretty lies.

What the hell was happening to him? Why this girl? Why this slayer? Why had his demon chosen the one girl in all the world meant to kill him to take as a mate? Why had it bound him up with this girl that didn't even like him?

She brushed her fingers over the mark she had made and the world came rushing back. His mate was under him, begging for a response. He slid one leg between hers, and she flinched.

The scent of her blood hit him. It was intoxicating, rich with life and power. He shuddered. Buffy made a small sound, and his demon stirred. He felt the demand of his demon surge through him. Stupid, bloody fool. The demon wanted to care for her, wanted to coddle her. He tightened his fists against the mattress. Strength, he needed strength. The demon and the man that formed him were at odds. Each trying to serve an agenda of their own. She whimpered, and he was buggered.

The shift was fast. The demon relaxed and licked the damn slayer's tears away. It stroked her and cooed at her. Tenderness formed in every stroke. She sobbed and clutched at him. He could smell her relief.

His own resentments faded as he surveyed the damage their violent mating had done. There were scratches and bruises decorating her body, and some of them were his doing.

She winced as he shifted over her. He had hurt her badly.

He slid down her body, nuzzled into her folds, and licked at the brutalized flesh, trying to soothe her. The rich taste of her blood filled his mouth. He stilled as he noted the over abundance of certain hormones and the synthetic tang. He had been too caught up in the moment before.

What had those damn fools been trying to do?

He felt her hand clasp his. She kept seeking comfort. He closed his eyes and rested the side of his head against her thigh. These falsities of affection were driving him insane, but demon reveled in them.

"Oh, wow, that feels so good, Spike."

He purred against her folds, and she arched up against the vibration. The cuts and abrasions were healing, but the demon wasn't done. Bloody fool. She tasted divine, but it was physical, only physical. There was no love, no devotion. It was just bloody sensation. Her better half had decided to trap him in an endless hell.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to rip the building down around them. He could taste her on his tongue, squeeze her with his hands, but there was no love.

Spike wrenched himself away from her. The demon snarled within him.

He watched her eyes focus again, saw the flash of pain. That was nice. Mated didn't mean whipped.

"Did I do something wrong?" She had pulled her legs up and curled around them. The demon wanted to reassure her, but he rolled his eyes and left the room without a word. He would not be a nursemaid to the bleedin' slayer.

He went to the room he'd shared with Drusilla and stepped in. Her scent was there, weak from the passage of time, but it was there. The memory of her dancing in the moonlight with blood dripping from her mouth played through his mind. His beloved. His wicked plum. She was magnificent. He pressed his hand to his neck to feel the scar his sire had left him, to roll in the delight of the bond, but he felt the slayer instead.

Her pain was raw and throbbing. He dropped to his knees and cried. His mate's pain was his.

"She's all around me." He sobbed. "Too bloody right. You couldn't give me a better warning than that, Dru? One hundred and twenty years and you left me to this? Just dust to you."

His body shook as the tears flowed. There was no comfort in this room, no safe haven. He was alone, abandoned by his family to fate. He ripped at the carpet with his hands. One hundred and twenty years and she had flung him away to cavort with a slime antlered wuss.

He had killed slayers for her, had bathed her in the blood of innocents, had stood by as she cavorted with his sire in this very room, in their very bed. He roared and stood up. He was done crying, done being poor weak William.

He yanked one of the posts free form the bed and stabbed it through the mattress.

"I loved you, you bitch." He ripped the post free, pulling batting and metal free with it. He twirled it about and stabbed it into the mattress again. "I loved you and you fucked him in my own bed, next to me. I gave up everything to save you, and you tossed me away."

He wrenched another post free and swung it at the bed. It shattered. He picked up a piece of the old wood. It would be so easy to end it. He could just shove the stake in. No more pain, no more loneliness.

"Don't do it, Spike." Buffy stood in the doorway to the room. She was wrapped in his duster, looking so very delicate.

"Took that off a slayer in New York. Looks better on you though." He shrugged. Buffy swallowed and looked at the bed. He could see the fear in her eyes, and it bothered him.

"Spent a lot of time in this room when my legs didn't work." He tossed the stake onto the bed. "Peaches and Dru had no problem fucking while I watched. I loved her with all that I had and it wasn't enough."

"I get it. She abandoned you. She took away all your choices." Buffy bit her lower lip. "Angel left because it was too hard to stay. He just left. There was nothing I could do about it."

"Yeah, old Peaches is good at ducking out." Spike saw something shine in the carpet and knelt down. His fingers closed around the familiar shape, his mother's ring. Drusilla had abandoned it here. He clutched it in his hand. She'd never worn it, but she'd always kept it safe with her other treasures.

A small warm hand pressed against his back. She had come. This human designed by the powers to kill him, offered comfort. He turned, clutched her to him, and sobbed against her naked belly, the leather of his duster slid along his arms.

"God, I'm so sorry." She buried her hands in his hair. "I was so busy thinking about myself, but this isn't any easier for you."

He looked up at his mate. The urge to renew the claim hit and he pulled her down to the floor. He kissed her gently and pushed his duster from her shoulders.

"No regrets, Love." He shoved the ring and the coat away from them. The past didn't matter anymore. "We'll get through this."

Buffy nodded and he kissed her. It was a simple kiss, gentle and sweet.

Mated to the slayer.

He was buggered, and there was nothing for it.


	6. Chapter 6

Buffy curled into Spike's arms. As weirded out as she was, she still felt safe in his arms, safe for the first time since she had become the slayer, really. His lips were cool on her skin as he traced her collarbone with his lips. Threading her fingers through his hair, she moaned.

"Are you okay then, Pet?" His lips brushed against the shell of her ear. the barest of caresses.

"I'm good." Buffy pressed her body against his. "I'm sore, but I'm good."

His lips went back to caressing her skin, stimulating and teasing with the lightest of touches. She shivered. This was too much. How did he make her feel like this?

"Easy, Pet." Spike whispered. "I will make you feel so good. Just relax."

He lowered his head and nuzzled her new scar. Tingles erupted all over her body. She pressed his head to her, holding him against her neck. She fisted her other hand against his back.

"Kinda hard to relax when you're doing that." Buffy panted against the smooth ball of his shoulder.

He kissed the scar, the cool press of his lips against it made her shake. Sensations bloomed, flooding her. His fingers on her nipples, his palms claiming her breasts, his legs shifting against hers, all combined with the delicious press of his lips to drive her higher and higher. She bit her lower lip. She so would not beg.

"This is so different than the first time." She stroked his back delighting in the play of muscles under his skin. He chuckled against her neck, and she smiled. It was a warm, delighted sound.

He rolled onto his back and pulled her to sprawl across him. She looked down at him and fought of the urge to laugh nervously. He was handsome. She'd always known that on some level, but there was more than good looks and evil behind his mask. She could sense it.

"First time wasn't us, Pet. Not completely. My demon and your angel or whatever it is had their fun. We're gonna make our own." He pushed the curtain of her hair back behind her ear and rested his hand over her scar again. "Make this our own."

"Make lemonade." She nodded. "I get it."

"Are you still hurting?" He traced a finger along her shoulder. "I shouldn't have stormed off like that. It stressed the bond, and you need some time to heal."

"I'm the slayer, Spike. I heal just fine." Buffy rolled her hips against him. "I can take it."

"I won't hurt you again, not like that." He sat up and spilled her into his lap. "You are mine to protect from the world, from me, from yourself."

He stroked her cheek and prodded her up to kiss him. Their lips fused. It was so easy. The slide of his tongue on hers was a seduction of its own. He slid one hand between them and delved into her tender folds.

His cool fingers teased her, gliding everywhere but where she wanted it most. She shivered and moaned into his mouth. She could feel his chest move as he chuckled against her lips.

"Like that do you, Pet?" His amusement was clear.

"It's torture, pure and simple." She arched up as he finally pressed his fingers against her in just the right way.

"I'd say unpure and simple." He leaned his neck to the side, baring his mark to her.

Buffy looked at the mark riding his pale skin. Her teeth had made it. Pride filled her. This beautiful, powerful being was hers. She bent down and kissed the mark with a light touch of her lips, but it wasn't enough. She tossed her head back as he speared her with his fingers.

Instincts flared. The urge to do more than just kiss the mark was undeniable. Spike was pushing her higher and higher, but he wasn't with her. She locked her eyes on the mark as he licked the sweat from her body. His tongue slicked against her, but he wasn't with her. He was pushing her so high, but it wasn't the same. She closed her eyes.

She didn't want to be alone. She wanted her mate with her always. She bent over and bit his neck again. It was different when she was in charge. The feel of his skin against the surface of her teeth was odd. She wanted more, wanted the connection to flare again, wanted to feel like one being again.

She pressed down with her teeth and felt his skin tear open. The coppery flash of his blood on her tongue was intoxicating. She sucked on the wound, letting his blood fill her mouth. She broke away from the wound and gasped for air. Some of the blood dribbled down her chin and spilled on to her breasts. She tossed her head back as he swirled his fingers inside her.

They were together. They were one. She pulled his mouth to the blood on her breasts. He lapped the blood from her skin with long strokes of his tongue. She yanked his head up when she was clean and grinned as he pistoned his fingers deep into her. He looked at her with his eyes flashing blue to amber.

Buffy shook as he pushed her higher. He was giving her this, giving her all that he had left. She had taken so much from him, taken the future he had wanted, taken his free will. She needed to give something back.

Spike danced his fingers around her body keeping her on the verge of bliss but no further. He's pulled away somehow, alone again.

"Bite me, Spike." Buffy rolled her hips against his hand, pressing her flesh against him. Instincts roared inside her. "Take my blood, your life from my body."

His eyes flew to hers.

"Mate." One word was all he needed to send her tumbling into ecstasy. She moaned and bared her neck to him.

His fangs slid into her skin and the pleasure exploded. They were one being. She clutched his head to her neck and lost herself in sensation.


	7. Chapter 7

Spike watched his mate shiver under his duster. The small show of discomfort bothered him. She was his. It didn't matter that there was no love between them. There was something that mattered. Exactly what, well, he had no bloody clue. The drive to protect her was strong, and this bit of farce was setting off alarms. He looked up at the watcher's door and felt the urge to shiver himself. This was not going to be easy.

"I won't let them stake you or anything." She grabbed his hand. "I just thought you should know."

"Don't go in without me, Slayer." He squeezed her hand. "I don't trust this lot. They may be yours, but I've watched them enough to know they have their own agendas."

"They're not going to hurt me." She tossed her hair back and huffed. "They're my friends, my family."

"Is it such a big deal to just do this one thing for me?" He pulled his hand from hers.

"I trust them. They won't hurt us." She moved to touch him, and he stepped back.

"Think they'll greet us with open arms when they find out we're tied to each other for all eternity?" He snorted. "I know watchers, Pet. He'll call the Council's damn death squad."

"There are death squads?" She paled and he felt a surge of something uncomfortable in his gut. Guilt had no place in his world. He looked at her stricken features and felt a surge of anger.

"Do you think those bastards sit around painting rainbows? Of course there are death squads or wet teams or some such. Saw a slayer go that way in 1952. Shame." He shrugged. It wouldn't do to talk about his own plan to kill the bird.

"That's the Council. He's not a member of the Council anymore. He was fired." Her hands rested, fisted on her hips. "He would never hurt me again."

"Again?" He tilted his head and watched her eyes. Realization dawned quickly. The fool would pay. "The bastard put you through their bloody sadistic torture session, did he?"

Buffy nodded and bit her lip. She was so very young, so vulnerable really. He sighed and pulled her in for another hug. The instant relief of it was a terror of its own. Just holding her was a pleasure, but comforting her was better, fuller, richer.

"I did this. Not you. You didn't have a say." Her voice was muffled against his chest. "You are the victim here. I'll make them see that. If he calls the Council, if he does that, I won't let them kill you for this."

"My demon made the decision, Pet." Spike eased her back enough to look down into her eyes. "Expressed the desire before and accepted you after. We usually rub along together, undivided like you and whatever your slayer is, but this was different."

Those perfect, blunt teeth of hers dug into her lower lip again.

"So, I guess our demons made the choice for us both." She sighed. "Yeah, Giles is not going to like that."

"Demons? Pet, you aren't a demon." He locked his eyes with her troubled gaze.

"Then what do you call the slayer part of me? Seemed like a demon to me." She flinched a bit. "I mean not all demons are bad. I know there are some that just go about their business and never get involved with the evil. Maybe some are good."

"Doesn't much matter. Does it?" He pulled her back against his chest. "What we are doesn't matter in the end."

"We have to try." His mate, this slip of a girl, curled her fingers into his shirt. The scent of her fear was acrid and foul. "I have to knock on the door."

He nodded. The wanker had a bag of her things if nothing else. She needed clothes, and she wouldn't let him pinch her some.

Living with her lily white self was going to present some true difficulties. It wasn't just the assorted idiots in her life. He could kill them if he wanted, but she would make his unlife a misery for it. How was he going to feed? It would drive her barmier than Dru if he killed a human. His demon snarled within him. Hurting her wasn't going to fly with his demonic side. He rolled his eyes. If he wasn't careful, she'd turn him into a fluffy puppy.

"Here goes nothing." She pulled away from him and knocked on the door. They could both make out the startled conversation.

"That's fast, even for Deadboy." That was the whelp. The one he'd kidnapped while trying to force Red to do the mojo for him. The boy had a uniquely annoying voice.

"Unless he has developed the ability to bend the laws of physics, Angel is not the one knocking." Had to be the watcher with that stentorian tone. He saw Buffy pale and growled low in his throat.

"We need to go. Angel's gonna make everything so much worse. Why would they call him?" She grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry."

"I can handle my family, Pet." Spike tilted his head and the one corner of his mouth pulled up in a wry smile. "I won't hide from the poof."

"I'm not asking you to hide, but I'm so not up for the conflict. I just... I need..." She looked up at him with wide worried eyes. "I want to feel safe and strong when we see him. I don't want him trying to save me or fix my life. Do you understand?"

"I do, Love. Indeed, I do." He pulled her close and kissed her as the door opened.

"Oh, dear Lord. Buffy. No." Giles slumped against the door.

Buffy blushed and took a step back from his arms. Her eyes were locked on her watcher. The bloody bastard raised his crossbow and fired it. The world tilted around him as she dropped to her knees, clutching at the bolt imbedded in her chest. Spike was at her side as she sobbed, a visceral aching sound.

"It's okay. It's okay." Buffy gasped into his neck. "Don't hurt him, Spike. Please."

"Get me your first aid kit, you ponce." Spike carefully laid Buffy down on the cobbled courtyard. "Before she bleeds out."

The bolt had missed the leather, but her blood was everywhere. He pushed the coat back from the wound, ripped the black tee, and watched her blood well up from the wound. She shuddered and gasped, drawing in air in great gasps.

"Got you, Pet." He rubbed his thumb over her mating mark, trying to comfort her.

"It hurts, Spike." She hissed through clenched teeth. "Just pull it out. I'll heal."

"Pet, I don't know." He stroked her hair back with one blood drenched hand and grimaced as the blood darkened her hair. "You're human."

"She's still alive?" Giles gasped and stumbled out next to them on the path. "She's been gone three days."

"So, shoot first, mop up the blood later, that's bloody brilliant." Spike sneered. His hands were slick with his mate's blood. "I'd drop you right now, but she'd never forgive me. Get the bloody med kit and the bag of her things. We won't be staying here."

"Let Giles come back to the house." The whelp tossed her bag out to him from the safety of the apartment. Spike caught the bag and dropped it next to him.

"Why?" The watcher looked at his mate. "Why would you leave her alive?"

Spike didn't bother to respond. The watcher slid back toward the door. He cups hear the idiot brigade talking, but he didn't bother to listen to their hissing whispers. Nothing either of them had to say would make a difference in his world.

"Pet, gonna fix this the vamp way. These fools are useless." He looked at her pale face and she nodded. It was all the assent he needed. He ripped out the bolt and quickly lowered his mouth to the wound.

The rush of her blood hit him, sweet and powerful. He sealed the wound with a lick, the flat of his tongue dragging between her breasts. She clutched his head to her and arched up to his mouth. He kissed her gently over her thudding heart before pulling back enough to look up into her green eyes.

"We need to go, Sweet." He pulled his duster tight around her. "Find a safe place."

"No, you can't take her." The watcher emerged from his flat and grabbed Spike's arm. "She was bleeding. She's still alive."

Spike stared at the hand on his arm. The remnants of Angelus' torture were plain to see. He shrugged the man off and knelt next to Buffy.

"Yeah." Spike stood and with her cradled in his arms, her bag slung across his back. He let his demonic face surface. The watcher backed up instinctively. "And I'll be keeping it that way."


	8. Chapter 8

Spike considered his options. His mate needed a safe place to heal. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound was still healing. Stupid bloody watcher. He should have ripped the bastard's head off for this. Then they could have holed up in his dreary little hole. None of it mattered now.

He had to find a safe place for her.

The mansion was out with Peaches headed into town. He smiled. At least, they'd left him some lovely parting scents to loathe. The warehouse wasn't safe in its burned out state. His most recent digs weren't human friendly, and he didn't fancy running into Harmony.

Buffy shifted in his arms and the scent of blood drifted up to him. Between her family and the paramilitary group hunting her, Buffy had no safe houses.

His mate would never leave this sleepy little berg unprotected for long. He sighed. It wasn't like he needed to find their permanent home. At best, he was buying them some time before Angel came storming in. He needed some high ground, and he needed it fast.

Buffy blinked up at him. Her sleepy green gaze was relaxed. The bond made trust a non issue. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, not intentionally, just as he knew she wouldn't hurt him. She patted his shoulder and drifted back out.

She needed a real bed and some food.

Keeping humans alive was not his area of expertise, but he needed to learn now. Alone he had been invincible, but mated he had a vulnerability.

He had to find a place to hole up now.

"Is that the slayer?" A demon approached him from across the street. Clem was a good sort. Never cheated at cards.

"Good to see you, too, Clem." Spike smiled.

"Are you eating or just planning a torture session?" The wrinkled demon's ears lifted slightly.

"Looking for a place to hole up while she heals." No point in lying to Clem. "Her watcher tried to kill her when we went to tell him our happy news."

"Happy news?" Clem walked next to him with his eyes locked on the slayer.

"We're mated." Spike took a deep breath.

"So, she won't kill me in my sleep?" Clem smiled. "That's cool. Why don't you stay at my place. I've got a spare room. It isn't much, but you guys need to get off the streets. There are these humans hunting us. The wear uniforms and work in teams. It's really freaky."

"Sounds bad."

"Yeah. Demons are disappearing all the time. Way more than she could manage to kill, and she never goes after the nonviolent types." Clem nodded thoughtfully. "She's not so bad for a human. I mean if you can stand all the hair and smooth skin."

"Don't have a problem with it." Spike smiled.

"Yeah, I guess being a halfbreed you are a bit more open minded about that stuff." Clem smiled. "I'm just up here on the left."

It was a small house, but charming. It was a lovely blue with white trim and shutters. There were garden gnomes arranged in the flower beds. He couldn't help but smile. This was not what he had been expecting. What self respecting demon had garden gnomes?

"The place might be a bit messy. I haven't fussed with the room since my mother left last month." Clem shrugged.

"I'm thankful. I was up against it." Spike sighed. "Can't very well settle my mate in a crypt, not with her being human."

"She sure is sleeping. Is that normal?" Clem looked at the slayer with curiosity.

"No idea." Spike sighed. "I've seen her take some powerful blows, but being shot by the watcher on top of everything else had to pretty awful."

"Shot?" Clem looked startled.

"Dumb bastard thought I'd turned her, and turned a crossbow on her without even checking." Spike closed his eyes, trying to suppress the rage. "Barely missed her heart. Might have killed her if he'd been thinking straight."

"Your lady's had it rough. I'm sorry." Clem's ears drooped. "Come on in, Spike."

Clem opened the door and held it.

Spike stepped through the door and smiled as he felt the threshold's power slide over him. Most demons couldn't create one, but this was a nice surprise. They would be more secure for it.

"It's not as strong as a human threshold, but it will deter a vamp for a while." Clem shrugged. "Spells. Can't stand the things really, but its useful."

"Do you have a problem with vamps?" Spike asked as he looked at the tiny rosebuds on the wallpaper.

"My kind make good eating for the weak ones. Since I live alone, I take extra precautions." Clem put his kitten basket under the small table.

"Sensible." Spike nodded and shifted Buffy higher up his body.

"The extra room is the first door on the left at the top of the stairs. I have some orange juice. It might help her. I'll bring it up." Clem smiled and backed away into the dark regions of the house.

Spike took Buffy up to the room quickly. He needed to clean her up and get some food into her. He laid her on the chenille coverlet and grimaced. The lining of his duster was stuck to her skin in places. This was going to be harder than he had imagined.

"Can I come in?" Clem knocked on the door.

"Sure." Spike made sure his mate was covered. He touched her cheek gently. She was so beautiful.

"I brought some things you might need." Clem shuffled in with a tray piled high with bandage boxes. "I didn't know what characters she might like, so I brought them all. I think the princess ones would suit her. Don't you?"

Spike picked up the box of adhesive bandages with smiling cartoon women with roses on them and smiled. She'd kill him. He looked at the bowl of warm water and the small terry squares sitting next to a bottle of juice and a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

"Thanks, Clem." He nodded at his poker buddy.

"Like I said, she's not so bad." Clem shrugged and backed out of the room, closing the door with a quiet snick.


	9. Chapter 9

Willow stared at Giles as he slugged back another drink. She wanted to scream at him. He had shot Buffy with a crossbow, but she hadn't been changed.

"So, you didn't bother to check? You just shot her?" Willow planted her fists on her hips and cocked her head.

"It was instinct." Giles placed his glass on the counter carefully.

"Instinct?" Willow snarled. "You have got to be kidding me. It's Buffy. Rule number one is don't try to kill Buffy."

"Things are not quite that simple, Willow. She has been missing for days. She arrived wrapped in a leather duster, pale, and marked." Giles swallowed. "He hasn't turned her, but it is only a matter of time."

"You can't know that." Willow stamped her foot against the wood floor.

"Will, you need to listen to him." Xander said quietly from his place on the couch. "Buffy is dangerous. She's always played it too easy with the vamps and, now, she's paying for it."

"There you go, Xander, spouting off about Buffy and vampires." Willow glared at him. "Giles shot her. What if she was coming here for help? Did either of you think of her well being?"

Xander dropped his gaze to his lap, but Giles shook his head.

"You don't understand, Willow. She was willingly with that monster. She asked him not to kill me." Giles sighed.

"She asked him not to kill you after you shot her? And you didn't even ask her anything did you? You're her watcher. She thinks of you like a father." Willow's chin trembled as she fought the urge to cry. "I wish she'd let Spike hurt you."

"Willow!" Xander looked at her with a stupid shocked expression.

"She's my best friend." Willow grabbed her coat and bag. "She used to be yours, too."

Storming out felt good, but what was she supposed to do now? How was she going to find Buffy? She looked up at the stars, wrapped her hand around one of the vials of holy water in her pocket, and headed toward Oz's place.

* * *

Walsh glared around the trashed examination room. This was in no way acceptable. She kicked a piece of the metal door away and stared at the shattered machinery around the room. It would take weeks to repair it, but they had to recapture the subject first. Priorities. She sighed.

One of the fresh faced soldiers rushed into the room and stumbled, staring wide eyed at the wreckage. His obvious shock was mildly amusing.

"Report." She narrowed her gaze and the young man snapped to attention.

"Twenty seven wounded." He swallowed.

"She didn't kill any of them." She rubbed her chin.

"No, ma'am."

"Dismissed." She glared at the soldier as he left. He wouldn't last here, but he might be useful. She needed more men to act as bait. They needed to find other girls that would redact to the drugs like this one had. "Seems Parker needs a wingman."

* * *

Buffy shifted against the cool body next to hers. It hurt to breathe. She should have let Spike punch Giles for this. It was awful. She looked down at her chest and tried to figure out why he had plastered about forty cartoon covered bandaids to her chest. It looked like he'd put a whole box on her.

"You okay, Pet?" Spike stroked her shoulder and moved, spooning her closely.

"It hurts." She touched the rubbery mass attached to her skin.

"Yeah, can't imagine it feeling good." His fingers trailed along her side. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? I mean, you didn't do this. My watcher did." Buffy blinked back her tears.

"Let it go, Buffy. It's okay." He pulled her back and wrapped his body around her protectively.

Buffy took a deep, gasping breath. She trembled and quaked in his arms until her emotions swamped her. The tears were hot on her skin, and the shudders wracked both their bodies.

"Why did he do it?" She sobbed and turned over pressing her face against his chest. "Why did Giles shoot me?"

"He made a mistake. Thought I'd turned you." Spike kissed her hair. "It's all that bloody training. Wrecks them on some level. He'll come around, Pet"

He soothed her with smooth glides of his cool hands on her back. His gentleness was shocking. This demon that she'd trapped showed her more affection than anyone else ever had.

"Thank you, Spike." Buffy stroked his bare chest with the tips of her fingers and pushed back enough to look him. "You're being really great about all this."

"Made my choices, Pet." Spike smiled, but the melancholy moment was not lightened. "You're mine, Buffy. If he hurts you again, I will end him."

She stiffened against him. A vampire threatening humans was so something she was supposed to slay, but she couldn't hurt him. Guilt welled up inside her. How was she going to defend the world from the monster holding her?

"The bastard almost killed you, Buffy. Don't expect me to forgive him." Spike's eyes flashed from blue to gold.

"I don't. I'm not sure if I can forgive him. Why would I expect you to do it?" She bit her lip. "It's just what are we going to do? You're gonna need to feed. I can't turn a blind eye to that. You know I can't."

"The thought had occurred." Spike sighed. "I can't stand the pig swill, so don't ask."

"Well, what do you suggest then?"

"I can get by on bagged human blood. It's nasty and expensive, but quite a few of us have done it from time to time. It's not my first choice, but wouldn't know how to deal with a reality where I got my first choice anyway." He flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

"What would be your first choice?" Buffy reached out and rested her hand on his smooth chest.

"Slayer blood. Everyday." He glanced over at her and smirked. "Not going to happen though."

"How much of my blood do you really need?" She looked own at her hand resting own his body. "I mean, it's better than regular, right?"

"Finest there is, Pet. Pure ambrosia, but I can not weaken you. You are not my damn food. You're my mate." He rolled toward her again and tucked her stray hairs behind her ears. "I will not hurt you."

"So, bag it and supplement." She touched her neck where he had bitten her. Her fingers caressed the ridges of the scar. "We could both enjoy it."


	10. Chapter 10

"Supplement? You mean use you as a bloody vitamin to keep my strength up?" Spike blinked rapidly. Buffy seemed to be getting her kicks by shocking him. What kind of a slayer wanted to be a snack?

"I thought you might like it." She shoved back from him. "No big."

He watched her pull away from him, felt it, too. His mate was hurting. His bloody fault, wasn't it? Poor girl had to be off her onion, and he was being an arse. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked up to the ceiling. This was not going well.

"I'd love it. I'd be so wrapped up in you, you would be able to lead me about like a prize bull." He moved and locked his eyes on hers. "I've done the whole blinded by love bit, and look what it got me."

"It got you me." Buffy's head drooped. "I'm sorry, Spike."

How had he managed to dig the hole deeper? Her sadness beat at him. Damn, the bond was growing quickly, and he was just as stupid as a chocolate kettle.

"Can't say that. Loving Dru was all about pain. It's her way. Her precious Daddy made good and sure of that." Spike shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He didn't want to hear her defend the bastard. "I know, I know. He's different with his perfect soul."

"I wasn't going to defend him." Buffy bit her lip and looked up at him through stray strands of her olden hair. "I think love is pain with him. It was for me."

"So, no more star crossed loving? The magic of doomed romance faded?" Spike tilted his head examining his mate carefully.

"It was over before I sent him to hell, but I refused to see it." She picked at the bandages on her chest. "I kept trying to force it, but it never worked. It hurt like hell when he left, still does, but it was always doomed. You were right when you said all that stuff to us last year."

"Usually am. I saw it wasn't gonna last for you, but Dru saw this thing between us. She turned on me because of you. Said I was covered in you." He swallowed and dropped his gaze. "I couldn't make sense of it. Thought I'd kill you and win her back, but things never go as I plan around you."

"Yeah, sorry about that." She rolled her eyes.

"Can't say this is the worst cock up of the bunch." Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth. "Not in a wheel chair this time."

"Sorry." Buffy swallowed and closed her eyes tightly. There was no flippancy to her this time.

"Was quite a fight, Pet." He reached put and stroked her arm. "You were a thing of beauty, a valkyrie. Still dream about that one. Dream about all our one on one's. Makes for a pleasant day."

"You dream about that stuff?" She wrinkled up her nose.

"Course I do, Pet. You should see yourself in battle mode. No man or vamp stands an earthly chance against you." He licked his lips. "Never seen anything even close to being that beautiful and I've been around for a bit."

"Thanks." Buffy blushed and ducked her head.

The slayer was such a bag of contradictions. He wanted to untangle her, to understand her. The slayer, that part made sense, but this blushing bride bit made him feel odd. Rubbing his chin, he considered her softer attributes. She was a lovely woman, but there was something about her that was more, a hidden softness in her warrior's heart.

"We need to talk." He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him. "There's trouble, more than we need. The bastards that hurt you, your watcher, and Peaches are all coming down on us at once."

Buffy swallowed and nodded. Her lips thinned, but she nodded. Relief poured through him. She wasn't going to fight him about the way he had classified the bloody watcher and the poof. He took a deep breath.

"I live alone, no minions, no order, no roots. I haven't got much to protect you with. Not now. I will." He stroked a finger along her cheek. "But we are going to need allies in this fight. I doubt you want me to make them, so we need to consider our options."

"Options? There are options?" Her green eyes narrowed and she turned her head away from his touch. "Crazy military type science weirdos are hunting me, my watcher shot me with my own damn weapon, and my ex is gonna go ballistic when he finds out about us. He really likes being mad at you."

"I prefer it that way. The bastard lies too well when he isn't hopping mad."

"Hopping mad? Did you really just say hopping mad?" Buffy collapsed against him and giggled. "God, I can see it. Angel jumping up and down like a two year old that's broken his toy."

Spike smiled. Her laughter brought a smile to his face. She wasn't mocking him. She was including him, laughing with him. He kissed the hair on the top of her head.

"Okay, so froggy ex, crazy watcher, and mad scientists on top of my usual slayage load. How are we going to manage this?" She frowned and tilted her face up toward his, locking gazes with him again. "Where are we anyway?"

"A poker buddy offered me his extra room. He's a good sort, a demon but no threat to the human population. No violence in him." He trailed his fingers through her hair.

"We'll need to find a safer place as soon as possible." She pushed away from him again. "We can't endanger others."

"The lot of them are already in trouble. The scientist's soldier boys have been taking any and all." He watched her eyes. The flash of anger, the hint of fear, he could see them so clearly now. She raised her chin a tiny bit and they disappeared.

"Then we need to stop them. I don't want them to succeed in whatever it is they're doing." She pulled off another bandage and flinched.

"You protecting demons, now?" He smiled.

"Looks like they need it." She winced and pulled another bandage free.

The knock at the door sent her scurrying back toward smiled as she slid under the sheets like some prim maiden. The slayer really did have a screw loose.

"Sorry to disturb you guys, but there is a witch and wolf on my porch wanting to see the slayer. Should I ask them in?" Clem asked from just out side the door.


	11. Chapter 11

Oz looked at the crocheted doily on the table and tried to wrap his mind around the Donna Reed flavor of this place. What was Buffy doing hrtere? He shifted slightly and watched the demon come back down the stairs. The whole situation was pricking at his nerves. Buffy was here. He smelled her blood, but her scent was changed. He tilted his head and patted Willow's knee.

"Buffy and Spike will be own in a minute. Would you like something to drink? I have grape pop." The loose skinned demon smiled. "It's tasty."

"Actually, we brought food for Buffy." Willow smiled. "She needs to eat when she's been injured. Is she okay?"

Oz heard Buffy whispering softly. He took a deep breath as relief washed over him. His alpha was alive. He took another breath and stood as she came into view, clutching Spike's hand as she dragged him down the stairs behind her.

"Oz, Willow, it's so good to see you." She grinned. "It is so not safe out there, right now."

"You need to eat." Oz lifted the bag of Chinese food he had purchased. "Werewolf and Slayer special?"

Buffy bounced and released Spike's hand. She hopped down the rest of the stairs and hugged Willow close to her. Oz smiled and watched them both with a sense of satisfaction. Buffy pushed back from Willow and smiled at him. He nodded his head.

"Fifteen egg rolls, spare ribs, broccoli beef, and rice." Oz handed her the bag, and she touched his shoulder gently with her free hand.

"Thanks."

"I would have bought more. Didn't know there would be a crowd." Oz shrugged one shoulder.

"It's all good, Oz." Buffy dug into the bag and pulled out a cellophane wrapped egg roll. "I need my egg roll fix."

"Why is Spike here?" Willow asked. Oz rubbed her shoulder, hating how nervous she was. "I mean he's still a bad guy right?"

"That's complicated." Buffy bit her lip. "I mean really complicated."

"I am a demon, Pet. No getting around that." Spike took the bag from Buffy and glanced down at it and raised an eyebrow.

"Werewolves and slayers have higher metabolism than other humans." Buffy pushed his shoulder. "Oz gets it, and not all demons are bad. I mean Clem let us crash here."

"What does metabolism have to do with my being evil?" Spike raised his scarred eyebrow.

Buffy took a big bite of her egg roll and turned her back to Spike again. Oz watched the amusement in the vampire's eyes. This situation was more complicated than he had imagined originally. His alpha had chosen a mate. Their mixed scents filled the air.

"Mated?" Oz quirked his head to the side and watched Buffy blush.

"Don't be silly, Oz." Willow patted his shoulder. He clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the oncoming babble.

"He's right." Buffy sighed. "Spike and I are mated."

"No." Willow shook her head and backed away. "He's tried to kill you like dozens of times. He kidnapped me. He threatened me with a broken bottle."

"I don't really need the laundry list, Will. I know what he's done." Buffy looked at Spike and shrugged. "It should bother me, but it doesn't. He saved me, this time."

Oz nodded. He could scent the changes in both of them. They were fundamentally bound. The wolf side of him accepted it easily. He took another deep breath, trying to discern the sweet scent that was mingled in with Buffy's. He wrinkled his nose. The trace of orange blossoms and apples was slight, but it was part of her. The medicinal scents and the powerful adhesive odor would was away, but this was new. It would bear thinking about.

"But, it's Spike." Willow scrunched her face up again.

"And..." Buffy tilted her head. Her patience was running thin.

"I need to get some drinks and some paper plates." Clem stood up and hustled toward the back of the house. "I have television trays to eat on. Get comfy."

"Can we try not to make Clem nervous. He gets sweaty. It isn't pleasant." Spike whispered. "He's a good sort, and we are guest in his home."

"So you're Miss Manners, now?" Willow glared at Spike.

"Knock it off, Willow." Buffy growled. The low sound brought up the hairs on the back of Oz's neck. He grabbed Willow's hand and squeezed it gently.

"I don't get it." Willow tossed her hands up and flopped back onto the plastic encased couch.

"It's a long story, Red." Spike sat on a chair and pulled Buffy onto his lap. "Parts of which are very private. Give Buffy some room."

"She can speak for herself." Willow glared at the vampire.

"Yes, I can." Buffy smiled. "I can make my own damn decisions. I don't need to explain them to you, Willow. I love that you care, but I need you to accept this."

"You didn't even tell me you were seeing him." Willow's jaw trembled. "I mean, why not? You do remember what happens when you keep secrets, right?"

"She hasn't been keeping me in a closet somewhere. I'm not a well behaved little puppy. I was coming to bloody well end her, but things got interesting." Spike tilted his head and smiled. "Very, very interesting."

"Interesting, how?" Willow leaned toward Buffy and Spike. Her facile mind was just not naughty enough for this. Oz grinned and enjoyed watching Buffy blush.

"And, again, it is not your bloody business." Spike shook his head. "Is wolf boy not pulling his weight? Is that why you can't leave our private moments alone?"

Oz growled. There was no need to get personal.

"I have grape sodas and some Zima." Clem returned to the room balancing a tray and dragging a rolling cart of trays with legs. "I love that stuff."

"Thanks." Buffy grinned at the demon and took a bottle of pop. "I haven't had one of these in years. Want an egg roll?"

"Wow." Willow smiled. "Take her up on that. Buffy doesn't share egg rolls ever, or secrets. Apparently."

Buffy growled. The sound was low and menacing. Oz stiffened. A fight between Buffy and Willow was a losing proposition for him. His alpha or his girl, he would be the one ripped to shreds. Buffy shook her head and their gazes locked. He could see her anger, but she nodded.

"Fine. Let's waste our time on this crap. I was on that date with Parker, okay. God, it sucked. The guy was all about the pressure." Buffy shook her head. "I am never playing helpless coed again. That's for sure."

"You went on that date days ago." Willow moved her hand in a rapid circle encouraging Buffy to hurry the story up.

"Long and short of it, Pet. Buffy was nabbed by crazy commandos. They did something to her. She escaped. I was there to kill her but wound up saving her." Spike grinned.

"That doesn't explain the mating." Oz swallowed and held up his hand. "Go light on the details, please."

"The military type guys were hunting me. Spike chose to save me." Buffy looked up at her mate and licked her lips. "I claimed Spike as my mate."

"Then I returned the favor." Spike stroked her cheek. "More or less."

Oz nodded and shook his head at Willow when she opened her mouth.

"It's done." He rubbed Willow's arm. "Spilt milk."

"We have larger issues." Buffy pulled the food containers out and reluctantly placed them on the coffee table. "So, let's eat and get to work."

"See." Willow grinned. "She's keeping the egg rolls for herself."


End file.
